Roles and Raptures
by Gohan's Onna2
Summary: Daenerys Targaryen has finally won the Iron Throne. But it comes at a price she does not want to pay. Marriage. Jon Stark Targaryen has earned a name and lost the people he loved. Out of duty and devastation, he has to make choices that he never thought he would need to. Sansa Stark has suffered through every hell imaginable. She must fight to become who she was destined to be.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note** : Welcome! This is my first Game of Thrones story, and I have been working on this beastie for a couple months now. This story is extremely dark...please head the warnings of Rape/Non-Con, sex, violence, swearing, etc.

I will be adding characters and pairings as the story continues, so as not to ruin anything for anyone :P

This story is going to be HUGE. I hope you will enjoy it!

Please follow me on Tumblr! gohansonna2

* * *

Chapter One

Jon

It had been nothing short of a nightmare since Daenerys Targaryen had ascended the Iron Throne. This incredibly beautiful woman, with dragons at her back, had helped him and the Night's Watch defeat the white walkers and the Night's King. Both of them on the backs of dragons had eradicated their foes and saved the entire realm. They went through all Seven Kingdoms, saving the helpless and killing anyone in their path that was trying to prevent the Mother of Dragon's destiny.

Daenerys was hailed as the savior of the realm and was practically a goddess amongst the common folk. They worshipped her every step and her every word.

They worshipped everything but her womanhood.

A majority of the aristocracy and High Sparrow—who she needed to back her at the beginning of her new reign in order to prevent further loss of lives and for war to not break out again—hated her and everything she stood for. Many feared another Queen Cersei, or another Mad King. She had certainly proven bloodthirsty in her take over, and now it was time for her to prove her kindness, morality, and ability to rule.

Shortly after having the crown placed upon her head, she attempted to persuade His High Holiness and his flock that it was a new era, a time where women could reign and be in positions of power like never before. The High Sparrow immediately fired back that the Seven Pointed Star stated that a woman could not rule without a man by her side. A woman was weak, full of wicked desires, and easily corrupted because of those inappropriate yearnings. Daenerys had fumed at him and the religion for almost a sennight, so angry that she was nearly unapproachable.

Jon, still very new in his role of prince, debated with her on her best options. Both of them had no problem destroying the Great Sept of Baelor and the New Gods, as neither of them worshipped those gods. Unfortunately, a majority of the kingdom did—and that would cause a revolt of untold proportions. That was something that neither of them wished. They wanted to unite the people and do whatever it took to make them happy so that they could begin repairing the damage that had been done for so many years.

Honestly, sometimes it didn't matter if you had dragons or not.

* * *

Jon

Jon had been watching the thick snow falling outside of the window he was sitting next to for over an hour, more or less not thinking of anything. He was at peace for one of the few times he'd had since being at King's Landing. The horrors of the war were gone for that moment, not haunting his every step. It was dark out, and the moon could be seen peeking through the clouds and snow. It was calming.

He heard movement behind him, and he knew it was Daenerys. It had been a month or so since she had been crowned and had crowned him in turn, and the unrest was palpable in the city. She was being pressured daily to either step down to make Jon king or to marry someone of an appropriate stature. The Faith Militant surrounded the palace and controlled the city. The Unsullied were the only thing keeping them safe at this point. The temptation to use the dragons to do their will was mounting, but they were trying to avoid it.

"Jon."

He turned and stared. Sometimes it hurt to look at her, she was so stunning. She was truly one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Her long silvery hair was tousled and she was dressed in an oversized dressing gown of red and black. The flames of the nearby fire were the only things illuminating her silhouette and it almost made her look like she was burning with the shadows flickering the way they were. He noticed that her feet were bare and her toes were curled against the cold marble floor.

He sat up straight. This was the first time he had ever seen her not looking perfect or covered in blood from war. This was her being vulnerable, clearly having come to him from her own bedchamber next door.

She walked closer to him, but he remained sitting. She had joked with him several times about how short she felt standing next to him. With him sitting, she was taller than him for once. She smiled softly and stroked his thick curls affectionately for a moment before she dropped her hand.

"Marry me, Jon."

He fought the urge to recoil from her.

How had he not seen this coming? That this wouldn't be an actual, viable option for her? Even realistically, her _only_ option? In what part of his brain, did he actually ever think for a moment that as a prince, he could marry for love? That he could have free choices, that life would be easy now? It was only harder and full of even more complications than ever before. It made him desperately miss the Wall.

He didn't really have any options. His duty was clear. He felt his heart shudder weakly in his chest.

Jon Stark Targaryen, the First of His Name, Prince of Meereen, Prince of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Prince of the Seven Kingdoms and Dragonstone, Khalakka of the Great Grass Sea and Heir to Dragons, nearly fell when he went to his knee in front of Daenerys and took her hand. He could feel her fingers trembling against his palm, and knew that she didn't want to do this either.

"I would be honored, my queen."

* * *

Jon

He was getting married.

To his aunt, no less.

He felt his stomach roll uncomfortably as they made preparations. The amount of paperwork that had to be signed was overwhelming. He wasn't even really paying attention to what he was signing any longer. Dany just shoved it his way, gave a brief explanation and he scrawled his signature. It mostly had to do with what his limitations of power would be once he was king of the Seven Kingdoms and other various territories. He was, essentially, going to remain with what power he had as a prince, but have the title of king. Dany would be the face and the power of the empire, not him. He was her _consort_ , to produce children with the Targaryen bloodline—not her true king—in every sense of the word.

Jon couldn't even say that he felt slighted. He didn't want this; his whole world had been turned upside down from the moment it was discovered who he was. Daenerys was wonderful, she truly was, but he didn't love her. He didn't even feel an attraction toward her _that way._ It kept him awake every night knowing that he was going to have to bed her, someone he really didn't know and wasn't attracted to physically. He'd barely known Ygritte, but he'd instantly had some kind of fascination with the woman and it had grown into an immature love. Maybe his future relationship with Dany could have the same thing. Maybe he could grow to love her.

He signed his name again. Her voice was tuned out at this point. Missandei and Tyrion stood nearby, handing their queen the paperwork one by one, chatting quietly with her. He also did not hear those words.

He missed Val desperately at that moment. His throat tightened as he pictured her red lips smiling at him one last time. The way she had clutched him to her in her final moments and told him that she loved him and hoped that he would miss her fucking him into oblivion. The choked laugh that he had released was the last thing that she heard and the tears pouring down his face were the last things that she had seen.

Jon stood abruptly, knocking over the chair he had been sitting in. Instantly Ser Barristan and several Unsullied stood at attention and their hands went to their weapons at the unknown threat. His hand did the same with the sword at his side, but it was more of an instinct than anything else.

He drew in a deep, shuddering breath when they stared at him warily. The look on his face clearly alarmed his future wife when he caught her amethyst orbs. She stood and placed her hand gently on his arm. "We can be done for now. Let us retire to your chamber for a bit."

The relief he felt that she did not ask any questions was palpable. Her arm found its way through his and he felt oddly calmed by her caring touch. His heart still pounded but his anxious breathing slowed. Her small guard escorted them quickly through the candlelit halls towards the direction of the numerous royal family chambers. Two guards stood outside the thickly carved doors that traditionally belonged to the queen, and without so much as a gesture, they were both opened. Inside the palatial space, two maids were just starting to set the table for their evening meal. Dany waved away the guards and Ser Barristan, who bowed and left them in privacy. The maids went to retrieve the food. They were alone within a matter of moments.

Jon disengaged himself from her and went to sit by the floor to ceiling window he was fond of. He heard a light clicking noise against the marble floor and unceremoniously lifted his arm for Ghost to insert himself against his body. The direwolf allowed Jon to bury his face in his fur, and he fought the urge to fist his fingers in it and scream. Instead, he drew several short, panicked breaths and tried to forget the unbearable memories that kept coming back.

Ghost was the biggest source of comfort he'd had since leaving the Wall. Since all of the killing, needless death, the years of war and his own death and resurrection, he'd felt slightly unstable. Not to the point where he would go on a murdering rampage, but to the point where he highly appreciated the calming presence his friend offered. The massive creature was something that he could place his full trust in and he knew that Ghost would never fail him in anything. He would always be there. Always.

He sucked in a few deep breaths and felt his heart calm. This animal that had saved his life more times than he could count was one of the few things left in his life that he could love and care for. Ghost undoubtedly felt the same, since all of his brothers and sisters were gone in one way or another.

He saw Dany approach them out of the corner of his eye. For such a small woman, she really was fearless. Jon figured the reason why the direwolf liked her at all was because she didn't really care how dangerous and lethal he was. She had three dragons, the most deadly things in the world, and had tamed them and was training them nearly every day. Ghost was nothing to her in terms of danger.

It probably helped that she had also personally saved Ghost's life when they had been fighting beyond the Wall.

The wolf let out a low whine and bumped his nose against Dany's shoulder as she raised her arms and rubbed her fingers over his soft ears. She lifted her gaze to look into his red eyes, not quite eye level with Ghost's mouth, and Jon felt a brief second of fear that he would bite her for taking such liberties with him. But instead, to his shock, he licked her face. Dany sputtered in shock and then laughed, and then he chuckled as well, having never seen Ghost do such a thing to anyone but him.

The direwolf pressed forward just the slightest bit and she fell on her behind, making them laugh some more. Almost as if knowing that his action had caused much needed happiness, he followed the fallen woman and licked her some more. Dany was trying to fight him off and was laughing uncontrollably at the same time. Jon finally pulled him off her, scolding the direwolf for making the queen fall inelegantly onto her bottom. He didn't really have any heat in it, as he was still amused by Ghost's actions and Dany's reaction. To see this creature taller than his future wife playing with her was quite the sight and made his heart warm.

He helped her up off the floor and she giggled a few times as she straightened her warm winter dress of white lambswool. Ghost sat next to them, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth, watching them. Jon patted his head and thanked him silently for bringing him a moment of joy he desperately needed. He was sure that Dany needed it too.

The dinner was delivered shortly after that and they ate in relative silence. It wasn't until Jon was sipping his wine and done picking at his meal that Daenerys cleared her throat quietly and gazed at him with her big eyes. She looked uncomfortable.

He suddenly didn't want to be there. He took a big gulp of his wine.

"Jon...it has been a moon since we became engaged. In a fortnight we shall be married. You have been very quiet and withdrawn. It is my duty as your future wife and queen to...make you happy. You will be my third husband. I want to do everything to make sure that everything turns out right with this. I care about you. Please, tell me what I can do to make you happy."

He stared at her, trying to ascertain what she was getting at. Why did she mention her dead husbands? He also knew that she'd had lovers before as well, both male and female. They had spoken about their past partners while they had been campaigning near Casterly Rock. After they had more or less destroyed the direct line of Lannisters, leaving only Tyrion, they'd had time to themselves to drink and have a bit of fun talking about their bygone days.

His eyes widened when he realized what she might be talking about.

"Are you...are you suggesting..."

She looked at him firmly, the Valyrian steel in her spine rearing its head. He felt his stomach churn. "I am suggesting whatever you want me to suggest, Prince Jon. You will be my husband and my king in a fortnight. If we were to lie together, a few days would not matter. Neither of us are virgins. There will not be blood upon my sheets for the realm to observe. We do not have any unclear notions of what will occur. We know how it works and what comes of it. It would be for pleasure. It could be...fun."

Jon stared at her and tried to think of what to say without sounding like a fool. He didn't want to insult her. She was queen after all, and his future wife. It was so hard for him to think of her in a sexual manner. He had tried undressing her in his mind multiple times, or even dreaming of what her skin would feel or smell like. He wanted to say what was holding him back was the fact that she was his near relation, but he wasn't sure. Targaryens had been wedding brother to sister for generations. Even the Stark's did at times. Dany's parents were brother and sister. She was the product of incest, and their children would be as well.

Perhaps it was honor that dictated that he should wait until his wedding night?

He was honestly just trying to tell himself that those were the problems. He knew it was something else entirely.

He stood, shoving his chair out of the way in his haste to give himself some room to think. Ghost, laying near the fire, sat up and watched him with his crimson eyes as he retreated to his window. It was snowing heavily and he could barely see anything beyond a few feet.

Jon clutched his sword at his side and mentally begged his friend for some type of distraction to cease his current predicament. When the direwolf sat up and walked towards him, he nearly sagged with relief.

Then Ghost walked past him.

Jon's eyes followed his direction and scowled darkly when he saw it was towards his bedchamber. He used his giant paw to open the cracked door and slipped inside.

 _Traitor_.

Dany had left the table and was standing near him. She looked confident and lovely, like she always did.

"Would you just prefer to wait until our wedding night?" she asked serenely, her hands held together in front of her, her violet eyes watching him closely.

He stared at her for a few brief moments, trying to decide what he should do. It was inevitable that it was going to happen. It _had_ to happen. One day he would be watching their child growing in her belly, and he felt his chest constrict at the thought of that child. It made him think of everything that had to happen to create that child...and he knew.

His next few steps had her against him and his mouth on hers. She had to stand on the tips of her toes, and his arms nearly lifted her off the floor. Her lips parted for him, and the feeling of their tongues coming together had his cock stiffening instantly. She moaned and rubbed herself against the hardness she felt, gripping his hair in her fingers to bring herself closer to him.

His hands left her back to cup her bottom, lifting her higher in his arms. Her legs struggled for a moment to wrap around him because of her dress, but she quickly let go of him and unceremoniously yanked it upwards. In the next moment her legs were wound tightly around him, her body flush against his. Her fingers found his hair once more and clung tightly, and he felt her shudder as their kiss deepened.

This kiss was different than the kisses he had shared in the past. With Ygritte he had been completely inexperienced and shy. She had taught him what she had known, but she wasn't the best of instructors or terribly experienced herself. Their kisses had been wet and sloppy and often awkward.

Val...her kisses had been nearly violent and full of the need to control him. They had been enough to make his lips, tongue, and sometimes even his teeth bleed from the force she applied. But even through the savagery of her mouth, there had been a fierce desire that he had not experienced with Ygritte.

This kiss was a combination of both. It was firm, both of them trying to claim each other, but it didn't hurt. Her taste was of wine and the lemon cake she had eaten after her meal, making her curiously sweet. The taste of the wildling women had had always either been metallic or bitter, more than likely because of their diets than anything. But Dany's mouth tasted delicious, and he found himself kissing her in such a way that he nearly wanted to eat her. This was an act he had always liked, but he knew without much thought that he would love kissing this woman.

When she yanked her mouth away, his lips went to her neck. She gasped and tugged at his hair, as if wanting him to stop, so he lifted his eyes to meet hers. They were both breathing heavily and clutching at each other, and out of nowhere, they both laughed and leaned their foreheads against each other, smiling.

"Let's go to your chambers, my khalakka," she whispered breathlessly, peppering him with more kisses.

He looked down at her lips and saw how bruised and plump they looked already. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was coming out of its intricate braids. She was beautiful beyond tell.

He picked her up like she was a doll, making her squeal at the sudden, unexpected movement. It clearly delighted her to be handled in such a way, and he didn't hesitate to run towards the bedchamber.

Once they were in his private chambers he kicked the door shut behind him. The only light was the fire burning in the hearth, casting flickering shadows about the room. Ghost was curled up on the large rug, facing the flames, probably feigning sleep. The bed loomed before him, with her still clinging to him. He caught her eyes once more before he took several long strides towards the enormous entity that was his bed and tossed her upon its surface.

The wild look on her face at the gesture had him ripping off his sword and throwing it in a corner somewhere. At the sound of the loud clang, she began quickly pulling at her dress, much more violently than he would have thought of her. At the sound of cloth tearing, his mind nearly went blank with lust.

His clothes were gone within moments. He honestly couldn't remember ever undressing so quickly. By the time he was naked, Daenerys was still struggling with the ties on her back. She didn't notice his presence until he was in front of her, turning her around so abruptly she gasped. He saw where the sound of the ripping had come from, where she had tried to undo the laces but hadn't been able to. His fingers were not experienced with this manner of female dress, but he managed quickly enough. Once the ties were undone and she stood, it cascaded down her body, catching briefly on her round hips before it fell gracefully to the floor.

She was turned away from him still, her hair tumbling down her back. Her silk smallclothes were being peeled down before his eyes, and he watched as her curved hips and ass were bared before him.

He nearly choked when she turned around. Her hand lifted to her mouth to hide a smile, more than likely because of his reaction. He fidgeted on the spot as she struggled not to giggle, and then her eyes went down.

The sight of her eyes going wide made him laugh outright. She pursed her lips for a moment, but then ended up laughing with him.

"This is entirely too awkward. I don't think I've ever done something as silly as what we are doing right now," she said, moving into his arms with a delightful smirk on her face. Smiling down at her, he closed his eyes at the feeling of her breasts pressing softly against his stomach. He'd never been with a woman as short as her, or as slight for that matter, but it made him think of several possibilities that definitely brought his blood back to boiling.

She must have noticed the change in his demeanor, because she began caressing his chest. She was silent for several long moments, just touching him, when she said, "You are very beautiful, Jon."

He opened his eyes and cocked his eyebrow at her. He had never been referred to as "beautiful" before, usually the opposite. The few women that had been in his life had been exceedingly gruff and violent and cared little for looks, and more about what was between his legs and what he was capable of in that area. It was also over a year since he had last lain with a woman, and he had grown significantly since he was Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. In the two years since he had been reborn, he imagined that other things had changed about him, such as growing out of his awkward, lanky, boy's body. His face was not as long and somber looking as it had once been. He'd been by Daenerys's side for nearly those whole two years, and she herself had also grown an inch or two and changed.

He chuckled as he tucked her long hair behind her ear to get a clearer look at her slender face. She was staring up at him, studying his features. Her purple eyes looked nearly black in the flickering light, but it did not matter.

"You're the one that is beautiful. Truly beautiful, in every way that could ever exist," he murmured, his fingers trailing down her cheek to cup the back of her neck. He felt her quiver against him as she closed her eyes, enjoying his light touch.

They kissed languidly for several long moments, wrapping their arms around each other and enjoying the sensation of their skin touching for the first time in such a way. He loved how soft she was, not as obviously muscular as the other women in his life had been. He could tell there was a strength about her, especially in her legs and arms, which she used to control the dragons she rode, but she was definitely of a delicate variety that he had never known before. Every inch of her was smooth and supple, not hard. She moaned at his exploratory touch, a musical sound to his ears.

When he lifted her into his arms once more, she did not release his mouth. Their tongues dueled as they collapsed upon the bed, both shoving the coverlets and furs down away from them so they could not become tangled within them later. It was honestly the first time Jon had ever fucked in a bed, and the new sensation was something unnatural to him, but comforting. Not having his knees or back pressed into ice or dirt was gratifying in of itself.

He pulled away from her lips long enough to shift his position, and became dumbfounded at the sight of the woman beneath him. Her silvery hair was spread around her, changing color intermittently from the flickering flames, her eyes hooded and her cheeks flushed. Her lips were parted and blood red—

A horrible sensation seized inside his chest as the face and body below him morphed into another. It only took a mere second for him to cry out in horror at the sight of the woman he had loved lying dead, staring sightlessly with a large wound in her chest and blood dripping from her mouth.

He flung himself away from the mummer's farce of a woman, knowing in his head it was not real, but unable to comprehend it at the same time. He heard Ghost bolt upright and jump onto the bed, shaking the enormous structure that kings and queens of many generations had slept and been born in. He felt a moment of fear that the direwolf would defend him against the woman behind him, but when he felt her press herself against his back and his friend allowed it, he knew that Ghost was smart enough to understand that Daenerys had not hurt him in any way.

She began crooning soft, consoling words that sounded like nonsense into his ear, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and squeezing tightly. He trembled against her fierce hold, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes, fighting the vision that kept wanting to appear before him.

She kept her hold on him, rocking him just the slightest bit. Her breasts were pressed firmly against his back and the feeling was strangely soothing to him.

She continued speaking, but her words did not make sense. He knew after a few moments of listening closely that she was speaking in another language—one that was gentle, lilting, calming. He thought perhaps it was High Valyrian, a dialect he was only beginning to learn.

They stayed like that for an unknown length of time, until his shudders were only mildly intermittent. She was stroking his hair and skin, no longer speaking. They were quiet, only the sound of their breathing and the fire crackling every so often reaching his ears. He was clinging to her arms wrapped around him, with Ghost lying next to them, as if guarding them from danger.

When he felt strong enough to turn to her, he saw where she had been looking the entire time that she had been holding him.

The dark corner where he had flung his sword in the heat of the moment, where a faint glow could be seen, pulsing gently like a nearly hidden flame.

* * *

 **Author's Note** **:** Please let me know what you think! I love interacting with my readers!

Please keep in mind that even though I have done thorough research on the characters and story, there is just no way I can catch everything. It is very possible that I may have missed something important. Please let me know if you see something and or read something that just doesn't make sense based on the books!

Thanks :3

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	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note** : Hey everyone! I wanted to say thank you SO much for all your great reviews last chapter! We get to see a couple more point of view's with this one. Enjoy!

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Chapter Two

Tyrion

"I'm sure you've seen the prince and the queen lately, have you not?"

Tyrion did not bother to raise his head to look at Ser Barristan. He was considering the final documents for the marriage of Daenerys and Jon, but he was still perfectly capable of acknowledging the old man whilst he did.

"If you are asking if I have seen them as in have I seen how they moon over each other? How they obviously fucked at some point within the last few days? Yes, I have seen them, if that's what you mean."

He looked up then when the sound of a combination snort and laugh came to his ears. He grinned at the sight of Missandei slapping her hand over her mouth, as if it would stop what had already fallen from her pretty little lips.

"Ah, I see that Missandei has also noticed the change in the soon to be royal couple," he said, enjoying the look of dismay on her face. It was clear that she had not meant to give herself away, but had not been able to control herself at his words.

Ser Barristan was frowning at him, but it was the type of frown where he did not disapprove of the topic, but rather at the words spoken.

"Her Grace seems happy."

Tyrion laughed outright. "Happy, Ser Barristan? I, quite frankly, have not ever seen our queen so radiant in the few years I have known her. It is obvious that whatever occurred between them a few days past has agreed with both of those melancholy fucks. Dany is practically glowing and is constantly giggling with her ladies in waiting and Dothraki handmaidens. Jon, dare I say, has actually had a smile on his face once or twice. The prince has been sending Her Grace little gifts of various kinds and escorting her about. I was present when she received the bouquet of exotic purple flowers that had her ladies melting at the mere sight, sighing covetously about how they matched her eyes," he sighed dramatically, shaking his head as he signed the paper he had been staring at for several minutes. "And not to mention on top of all of this, Dany has mysteriously been missing from her chambers at night, isn't that right, Missandei?"

The young girl turned to him with wide eyes. Tyrion wagged his finger at her and set aside the stack of paperwork on his massive desk. After wriggling to the edge of his seat and making the leap to the marble floor, he approached the table covered in various decanters, pouring himself more than enough to appreciate the decadent vintage.

"You cannot act like everyone doesn't know how close you two are, my lady. Our circle of friends is very aware of how you two have been lovers for some time. Do you deny it?" he asked, staring at her over the rim of his wineglass.

She gasped, and that was when Ser Barristan stepped in. "My Lord Tyrion, I do not believe that the young lady here wishes to partake in this conversation. Yes, we are all very aware of certain situations occurring within the palace, but you do not need to be so vulgar."

He chuckled, swirling the delectable plum liquid about his delicate chalice. "Barristan the Bold, how bold of you to come to her defense. I know very well that I am vulgar, as it is one of the things that I do so love about myself, one of the very few things, in fact. I was just trying to pry some juicy tidbits from the lady. I meant no disrespect, my dear." He bowed in her direction, making her smile and nod. He thought it humorous what came out of her mouth following that.

"Her Grace has been missing from her chambers for the last few nights as far as I know. Ever since the marriage was proposed she has...she told me that we could no longer continue as we were. I have not always been around when she goes to sleep since she told me we could not...persist."

Tyrion noticed how she looked down at her clasped hands and looked rather despondent. It appeared as if the young girl was sad about the queen no longer consorting with her, but they were still friends, as the queen was almost never without her by her side. He doubted that Her Grace would ever permit someone staying with her in any manner if she did not have to tolerate their presence. Missandei was loved by the queen, but not in such a way that she could not put her to the side for a marriage that would unite their kingdom.

"All in all, so far this arrangement is agreeing with the pair. Whatever has happened is for the good. I look forward to seeing the two happy together. If I had to see Jon looking dour much longer, I might have drank myself into a stupor." He paused. "Well, perhaps not a stupor, for I do that nightly."

Missandei laughed.

* * *

Daenerys

There had been very few times in her life that she had received gifts from the heart.

She had received plenty of offerings and favors from men, women, and children, mostly in the name of the country she was currently in. Oftentimes it was to persuade her not to kill them all. She had collected various precious metals, jewels of all types and rarities, even some that she had never heard of nor saw before. Glorious fabrics that were so soft it defied logic. Colors that the eye strained to behold they were so stunning. She had been given oils and perfumes of the most incredible scents, meat and fruit that tasted so extraordinary that she still remembered the experience upon her tongue. Weapons and musical instruments from every corner of the Known World had been laid at her feet. There were even things that she had no name for and had no idea what they were meant for.

The greatest gift of all had been the eggs that had birthed her dragons, but that had been more of an offering as well. They had held no realistic value, just eggs turned to stone from the passage of time. Of course they held actual value for what they were, but they were supposedly worthless except for their beauty.

For all of the incredible things she had been offered, there were only a handful of things that she had been given that meant a great deal to her.

Her Sun and Stars had given her the silver that she had rode through the Great Grass Sea and all through the sackings of multiple cities. When she had finally returned to Meereen, her silver had been waiting for her. Since she had taken to riding her dragons regularly, her silver had not been used as much, but was still a treasured gift. She was resting contently in the stable at the Red Keep, and she intended to breed her soon.

The hrakkar pelt that Drogo had gifted her was also adored. She had it laying upon her bed, where she often laid with it wrapped around her.

The new gifts currently lain before her were very dear to her, in ways that she had not expected.

After their first disastrous night together, Dany had felt a bizarre need to be there for Jon. She had known for quite some time that he was a broken soul. With the sheer amount of misfortune that had fallen upon him in the last five years alone, it was a wonder he was not completely insane.

Dany trailed her fingers along the bright purple and white petals in the grand vase before her. When the flowers had been hand delivered to her chambers by the stuttering florist himself, she had been stunned. At first she had not understood. Was there a special occasion? Was someone new attempting to ask for her hand, despite her marriage in only a fortnight?

Then it had dawned on her. The sheer extravagance of the flowers and vase, the costliness of that alone, not to mention the timing, it all led directly to Jon. Tyrion had thought the whole thing was amusing. Her ladies and handmaidens had tittered over them and her for hours.

The night before had been both lovely and troubling. The initiation of their lovemaking had been nerve-racking, but she had hoped to break him out of his shell. To bring them closer. To make him happy. To make him forget his pain.

She had honestly believed that he would decline her immediately. He was a very honorable man, and his actions towards women always exuded that. She had felt jealousy on numerous occasions towards the reactions that women had when they were around Prince Jon. The man was the epitome of kindness and righteousness, as if he was a true knight of the Seven Kingdoms. While he had never been actually knighted, she knew that he practiced the traditions, customs, and courtesies that men like her white knight Ser Barristan did.

Women adored just being near him, fawning over him and his far and few between words. She knew that a lot of it had to do with his title, but many genuinely wanted him.

Not anymore. He is mine. And I keep what is mine with fire and blood.

She smiled wickedly as she plucked a flower from the vase. She rolled the petals along her cheek, enjoying the delicate caress. Closing her eyes, she envisioned for the hundredth time the look on his face when she had come to his room the night after their first disastrous meeting.

He had turned vividly red at seeing her, for it was the first time he had laid eyes on her since the previous night. It was obvious that he had been avoiding her, and had more than likely just stayed in the training yards all day, practicing with the other knights and warriors flocking to the Keep for the wedding.

He had tried to force his eyes to stay locked with hers, but after a few brief moments of struggle, his gaze had drifted down to the revealing neckline of her attire. She had purposefully dressed like the scandalous woman she was, modifying one of the tokars that she had worn while residing as queen in Meereen. Her breasts, far more plump than they had been when she had been a girl living in that city, were nearly overflowing from the virtually transparent covering. At his heated stare, her nipples had hardened in response. She had almost gasped aloud at the mere sensation, for his look provoked powerful feelings low in her belly.

Dany blinked and found herself back in the present. She sighed dreamily and then inhaled deeply of the flower held in her hand. The scent was light but intoxicating. She had not known that there was even a florist within the city, but Jon had located a hot house nearly going out of business and had provided them much needed funds to stay afloat with his purchase. Dany had thanked him for his kindness involving their people, for it was uncommon that anyone cared about the smallfolk. Jon had explained warily that the man and his family had been the main florist used for providing blooms of all types for the nobility and Red Keep, but once things had gone downhill, his business had suffered. He then told her that he had authorized the weekly delivery of new flowers to the Keep to brighten it up, if that was acceptable to her.

In their short time at the Keep as actual rulers, it was not often that Jon asserted any type of authority. Even though he had been Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and was familiar with positions of power, he did not seem comfortable in his role of prince. It came as a shock to her that he had even asked if it was alright for the flowers to begin weekly deliveries once more, when it shouldn't have even been a thought in his head.

For the few days since their first time nearly coupling, Dany had found herself in his bed. Oddly enough for her, she had not attempted to ravish him the next few evenings, despite how much she wanted to just fuck him all night long. She was in a perpetual state of arousal, just wanting to find relief within his arms. Instead, they laid together in his bed—talking, of all things.

She could not remember ever just talking to a man for so many hours on end. They would have food and drink delivered into his chambers and ordered the servants and guards away until late the next morning, letting them have total freedom. Every night they would find themselves talking into the wee hours of the morning, falling asleep mid-conversation. The laughter was contagious and so were the heartfelt words. They spoke of dark times in their pasts, and she both felt and saw Jon opening up to her more as every night went by.

The subjects that they spoke of initially had Jon acting reluctant and nervous. She had started off talking about her Khaland her experiences as a Khaleesi in his khalasar. The stories had him laughing, such as the one where she told him about how Drogo had mounted her as a horse and mated with her in front of the whole khalasar, spilling himself only after moments. Her tales of humor and sadness ended up helping him start talking of his own, and they reminded her of the times they had spoken much more openly together, when they had been fighting for the Seven Kingdoms and their crowns. When he had been distracted from his sorrows.

She wasn't sure what had changed from the time they had left their campaign to live in the Red Keep, but something had. Perhaps it was the inaction, or not understanding or knowing his new role. He had become more apprehensive, sometimes like he was afraid of his own shadow, and situations triggered reactions from him that scared her.

Whatever was happening between them, it was as if he was changing into a different man. He was more apt to talk, and she was seeing the courage he used to have return. He was finding things to do that he had not done before, such as helping the smallfolk and providing the Keep with their services. He was starting to give orders rather than expecting someone else to do it.

Apparently her words of sincere thanks for helping their people and for encouraging him to accept his role had helped.

She placed the flower in her fingers into a large book that she had sitting on the table to dry it and keep it forever. Songs of Westeros stared back at her on the aged cover as she closed it, and she drew in a shaky breath as the book brought back reminiscences of someone that would always hold a complicated place in her heart.

She stood as she suppressed the memories fiercely, not wanting to dull her joy.

The flowers had arrived late the morning after their first night. After she had figured out that they were from Jon, she had felt giddy. She had believed that they were an apology of sorts, though he didn't really have anything to apologize for. Nevertheless, it showed that he cared. Men that cared about her were a definite weakness of hers.

Over the next few days, Jon had bestowed both material and immaterial things to her. Before their third night together, he had set up a romantic fire lit dinner that had all of her favorite foods and treats. She had felt so full afterward and she had told Jon he was going to make her fat if he kept on spoiling her. She had giggled as he had carried her into his room, laying her gently upon the bed. For a few brief moments her heart had pounded, thinking that he planned on laying with her, but he had only kissed her softly, making her tremble with need as she clutched at his black tunic.

His smoldering gaze had told her that he wanted her too...and she had been frustrated when he released her.

On the fourth day, Jon had sent her an invitation to join him in the godswood, where they spent a wonderful afternoon sitting on a thick blanket under the great oak that was meant to be the heart tree. It had been warmer than usual, and the snows were mostly melted.

He talked quietly to her of the Old Gods and how he wished they were being married here rather than in the Great Sept. Dany had never personally worshipped any gods, just accepted them as deities people worshipped, but had felt an odd connection with the gods Jon spoke of. Perhaps it was the way he talked of them—they felt more primal, more real, than the Seven Gods worshipped by the majority of their people. They weren't judgmental, they were just...there. Watching you.

When she had asked him if he would like to have a private ceremony for their family in the godswood after the one at the sept, he was overjoyed. He had picked her up and twirled her around until she was breathless from laughing, and then they had sat curled up under the heart tree, kissing and talking for what seemed like all day but had only been a few hours. Duties called, as always.

On the fifth day, Jon had taken her for a long ride outside the walls of King's Landing, where they had explored the woods and streams. They'd had a small escort that followed far enough away that they'd had privacy. Above, all three of her dragons had played, enjoying their freedom. Ghost had trotted off shortly after they arrived in the woods, and she imagined that he was hunting.

They had raced together through the trees, across open fields, laughing and shouting with joy at the freedom they felt. Snow and mud had flown behind their horses, but her silver had never slowed, and neither had the black beast that Jon had ridden. When they had reached the Kingswood, they had dismounted to spend some time walking together, their bodies occasionally brushing against each other. She had even snuck in a few pecks on his cheek, which had made him turn pink.

During their exploration, Jon had shyly given her a bracelet that he had seen walking through King's Landing searching for people to employ in the Keep now that the city was coming together again. The gems had sparkled a multitude of different colors, looking almost as if the jewels themselves were burning with fire inside. She had asked him to put it on her, and after chuckling and stumbling a few times with his fingers, he managed.

It was at that moment that Daenerys realized Jon was courting her.

She had flung herself into his arms and kissed him hard. When she had released him, he had been dazed and hard against her belly. She had almost thrown him to the ground at that moment, but at a distracting call from Ser Barristan that it was getting late, she had refrained. The look that she had given him promised him more to come.

That night was memorable. It was the first time that she had attempted to seduce him since their first night together, and it had worked better than she had thought it would.

She had been very careful with him, but had not given him much of a choice when she asked him to lay upon the bed. She told him to let her know if he wanted her to stop, and thankfully the words never came from his lips.

Other words had, however.

The sheer number of times he had cried "Fuck!" and "Oh, gods!" had driven her insane with desire as she had taken his cock within her mouth. She had only planned on thanking him for the gifts and enjoyable moments he had given her the last few days, and to more or less break the ice, but it didn't entirely turn out that way.

After she had thoroughly pleasured him, he had lain upon the bed with his chest heaving, his dark eyes wide with shock. She had been caressing his chest, relishing his expression when he had rolled over on top of her and literally ripped her dress and small clothes open from top to bottom. The frail fabric had torn easily in his strong grip, and as she had gasped at the unexpected gesture, she couldn't have been more surprised than she was when he buried his face between her thighs.

As a lover of women as well as men, she had never had this done to her by a man. During her travels and marriages, it could be weeks between bathing, and it was offensive in the Dothraki culture to lay with a man or woman in such a way. Daario had only ever been interested in having his cock in her cunt, and Hizdar zo Loraq had been both terrible in bed and immensely selfish. She had laid there much of the time with him, forcing herself not to be sick as he heaved and sweated over her with his thin manhood. Thankfully it was always over quickly.

She had not experienced such a thing until she had taken her first female lover after she had returned to Meereen with Drogon. Reshka za Yuhser had been plump and big breasted. She had fascinated Dany from the first time she had seen her, and when she had invited her to her chambers, the woman had shown her what she had been missing since she had first been introduced to sex. Their relationship had not lasted long due to Dany going to war, but it had been educational.

The only other female lover that she had taken had been Missandei. It had been more out of necessity than anything else. The girl had been raped and molested her whole life until Dany had taken her in, and she had felt the need to show her that sex did not have to be seen as something disgusting or shameful. She felt honored to have shown the girl that she could enjoy it, and it had upset her to see how sad she had been when she had told Missandei that they could no longer be lovers.

The trials and tribulations she had gone through guiding Missandei how to love her body and how to show her what she liked had taken several moons, but it had been worth it. Dany had learned more about her body and what she had liked than she had with any previous lover. It had been her that had been the more experienced, so she had been able to more or less train Missandei how to pleasure her. She had learned slowly at first, but after Dany had given her the first orgasm she'd had ever had, things had come much quicker. They had explored positions of all kinds and different ways to enjoy each other. She had become quite good at what Jon had performed on her that night.

But Jon…by the Old Gods and the New...he used his entire body to pleasure her between her legs. It wasn't just his tongue or even just his fingers. His whole body was involved in the process, finding places within her and on her that she'd had no idea were so deliciously sensitive. The way he had contorted her body and made her move into different poses, instantly taking advantage of any sweet spots he discovered and quickly moving on from areas she did not respond well to had been intense to say the least. She had felt like he had learned more about her body in that short time than anyone had...well, ever.

She had peaked explosively the first time, very quickly and suddenly. She had been expecting that wonderful relaxing period after experiencing that type of pleasure, but Jon had not stopped. She had screamed and cried and begged him to stop because it was too much, and then suddenly she had been crying for him continue and never stop over and over again for what seemed like forever. The tears had been pouring down her face from the sheer amount of emotion and physical sensation her body was going through, gripping his hair and riding his face as he kept going on and on.

When she was done exploding one time he could flip her over, or roll her onto her side, or shift her legs another way. Sometimes he would have one finger, then two, then three inside her. He would press his fingers in places inside her that would have her falling apart within moments of having just finished peaking.

At the end, when she had honestly thought she could take no more, she had felt him slide one of his fingers there. In a place no one had ever been before. With his fingers in her cunt and ass, licking at her, she had screamed until her voice was hoarse, coming undone one final time.

The amount of times she had climaxed was lost on her. She had never in her life experienced such a thing and hadn't even known it was possible. Her brain had been beyond the functioning point when he finally lifted his head, his beard, neck, and chest soaked with her fluids. He had crawled up her body to her mouth, where he had kissed her hard before lifting his head and staring down at her. She had felt the proof of his arousal pressed against her core, and would have accepted his cock enthusiastically, but he did not push her further. Instead he rolled over to her side, where he tucked them in and pulled her against him.

She had fallen asleep almost straightaway.

That had been the best sleep she had probably ever had. She had felt absurdly safe and sated, and there weren't too many worries on her mind at that point.

When she had awoken on the morning of the sixth day, she had found a light breakfast waiting for her, along with Ghost, who seemed anxious. At first she had been worried that the direwolf was worried over something going on with Jon, but it had turned out he had been wanting her to hurry so he could escort her from the room. His bounding and wagging tail had put a smile on her face.

After she had dressed and followed Ghost, nearly skipping to keep up with him, she had found Jon in the throne room directing several workers. The room was freezing and debris was all over. Every surface had a light coating of dust.

When she had threaded her arm through Jon's, he had jumped. She had smirked up at him naughtily, undoubtedly reminding him of the night prior if his red face was any indication.

"I had hoped that you might sleep a bit longer so that this could be completed in time, but it seems like it will take a lot longer than previously thought," he had said, looking sheepish as he escorted her over to a large object covered in dirty canvas. When he had swept it aside, she had been silent, unable to form words.

She had understood then why the throne room had been cold. The large stained glass window behind the Iron Throne had been removed. It had been a garish seven-pointed star in the Lannister colors, something she had hated but had never thought once to replace. Apparently Jon had, though, long before they had ever begun their intimate relationship.

The new window was spectacular. Of course it was the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen, but the detail put into it was extremely intricate. Jon had explained nervously that he had thought of it quite some time ago and that it had been planned as a gift at a later date, but it had been perfect timing to have it completed before their wedding, where the entire kingdom could see that she reigned supreme.

"We," she had whispered, her heart pounding as she gazed up at him with tears in her eyes. His thoughtfulness made her heart ache, and the kiss she had given him had shown him just how happy she was.

How much luckier could she be?

* * *

 **Author's Note** : We all know good things never last... Please review!

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	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note** : Hello everyone! Enjoy!

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* * *

Chapter Three

Tyrion

"If I find you and Jon one more time in a supposedly hidden alcove fondling each other, I might throw myself off this tower."

Daenerys's mouth fell open for a brief second before she blushed.

"We do not fondle each other, Tyrion."

His eyebrow jutted upward. "Then what exactly are you two doing in dark corners, giggling like two naughty septas?"

Her face turned redder before her chin jutted into the air like the proud queen she was. "Perhaps we are fondling each other. What does it matter?"

Tyrion chuckled as she admitted exactly what they had been doing. "Please, my dear. Just go away for a day or so and enjoy yourselves before the wedding. Everyone in this Keep is beginning to drive me senseless, and I think watching you two fawning over each other might just tip me over the edge."

Dany frowned as she picked at the pleats in her warm blue gown. "I can't just leave right before the wedding. People are expecting to see Jon and I preparing and making sure everything is running smoothly. Emissaries are arriving from all over the Known World and it would be disrespectful for me not to be there when they arrive."

Tyrion found himself rolling his eyes as he sipped his favorite wine. "Your Grace, as I am sure you are aware, I am your Hand. It would not be a slight if I were to handle these matters in their entirety while you and Jon are suddenly overcome with a slight sickness that has you both confined to your separate chambers. While you are recovering, I will gladly deal with these nobles and representatives arriving in droves."

Dany blinked several times as she considered his words. "You truly think we could escape for an entire day without insulting anyone? I don't know…I think that with our wedding being less than a sennight away, it would be best just to wait. Not to mention I do not get sick. I've only been sick one time and it was from bad water. I've also never seen Jon ill, though he has said he was once as a child. Maybe we could go away for a few days after the wedding. That would be more acceptable."

Tyrion shrugged as he watched the queen of the Seven Kingdoms pace about the opulent space. The Tower of the Hand was once again his, but it had been destroyed since he had originally occupied the space. Cersei had seen to the complete and utter destruction of the tower after he had killed his father, but the previous Hand, Mace Tyrell, had taken it upon himself to have it rebuilt three times bigger and even better than before.

He had made a few changes, of course. He was a rich man, and he had been destitute for too long once he had left Westeros. He enjoyed the pleasures of wealth, and had made sure to fill the tower with everything he wanted.

His pleasure was costly, but a lot of it had come out of his own pocket. As the Lord of Casterly Rock, he now had funds at his disposal that he had never believed possible. He had forgiven all debts owed to the Lannisters so that the royal family would be able to pay back most of the debt owed to the Iron Bank with little to no trouble, considering the sheer amount of riches Daenerys had managed to obtain from her travels over the years. Between the Seven Kingdoms, such as the Vale, Dorne, and the Reach, they had been able to amass enough wealth to pay back the bank. They were only paying back the interest now, which would be gone in about two years, unless their incomes changed.

The space was much more comfortable and not so much in the military style of his father and the previous Hands before him, but instead was obviously meant for a wealthy man like Mace and himself. Daenerys had initially scoffed at the sheer sumptuousness of it all, but more often than not, he found her visiting him and enjoying the luxuries. Many times their council meetings were held here, where everyone thoroughly enjoyed the chambers.

Right now, she was reclined on an overstuffed crimson divan, gazing out of the window. Snow had not fallen for over a week and was a good sign. Many were hoping that winter would be ending soon, but no word had come from Oldtown.

"I think I will talk to Jon about it and see what he says," she said offhandedly, sighing in that way she had recently started doing, more than likely some female thing he guessed. She was probably daydreaming of Jon's cock.

Tyrion thought for a moment before he opened his mouth, something that was rare. "Jon seems like he is going back to his normal self. More or less."

She turned from her spot to look at him, her stunning eyes wide and hopeful. All she needed to do was clasp her hands together and look dreamy and the picture would be complete. "You think so?"

He shrugged as he began shuffling through several stacks of papers, trying to locate the last few documents for the wedding that he wanted to triple check. "I met Jon long before you did, my queen. We spent quality time together on our travels to the Wall, and we also had deep and interesting discussions at that desolate place. He was a young boy then, but you can see the tiniest glimpses of that boy when he is with you. He was a somber lad then as he still is, but he was much quicker to smile and laugh then. He even had a bit of a sense of humor. His devotion to his family was profound. Losing them...and his life, changed him. Amongst other...various losses."

Tyrion had been present at some of those losses. Not only that, but with him going from a bastard to the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch to a prince after Daenerys had named him kin, he had not stayed the same boy. He was a man now, but not the man Tyrion had thought he would become. He wasn't bad in any way, but he also wasn't fully there in the head at certain times.

Tyrion more than likely had beheld more breakdowns of Jon Stark Targaryen than any other person in the Seven Kingdoms. For all of the terrible things he had witnessed him go through and do, it was a wonder the boy was able to hold it together like he did. Then again, he himself had done some terrible things, and he didn't think he was crazy.

Daenerys was looking contemplative as they sat quietly. The fire was crackling in the hearth but needed another log or two. He thought of getting up to do just that when she sat up, saying, "I must see him. He has been oddly subdued today. Normally I receive a missive or two from him by now."

Tyrion heard something in her words and stopped her quickly before she left the Tower of the Hand. "Daenerys, if I may...Jon is very fragile. This sudden change in your relationship...do not push him too hard. I don't want to see either of you hurt. We all have fought for this family, and we only have each other. Be careful."

He saw the confusion on her beautiful face before she chewed her lip and hurried away, her guards meeting her at the entrance before they followed their mistress to Maegor's Holdfast.

* * *

Daenerys

"I think you would enjoy the Great Grass Sea, Jon. To see Vaes Dothrak, meet people of another culture, live such an ancient lifestyle. I will have to teach you Dothraki customs of course, and the language. But it came quickly to me, so I am sure it will for you as well. You've seen my handmaidens and dealt with them from time to time, so you aren't completely unaware."

He was mostly silent as they ate dinner. A few nods here and there and murmured words were all that she was getting from him. She was worried something was wrong, and had asked as much, but he had declined her worries. He was flexing his burned hand quite often, and she wondered if it pained him. His many scars sometimes bothered him, especially if the weather abruptly changed, which it had. The snows had begun late afternoon, shortly after she had left the Tower of the Hand. It fell heavy and thick, as if it wanted to bury the city.

"I can have Grand Maester Hyndyll bring you a poultice or milk of the poppy if you want, Jon," she said softly, reaching for his hand, which he did not have covered with the glove he typically wore to cover the barely-there scars. She had told him long ago that it did not bother her to see his hand marred in such a way, but he had not stopped wearing his gloves in her presence until the last few days, and only when they were alone.

He jerked his hand away before she could touch him. She blinked at the sudden reaction, and he muttered an apology that did not seem entirely sincere. She searched his face to find the answers to his moodiness, but nothing came to her.

In that moment she was tempted to spit some fire, but at the last second refrained when she remembered Tyrion's words from earlier. Perhaps something had happened and he was upset.

She stood instead, shaking out her lavender skirts. It was one of Jon's favorite dresses, and she had noticed him admiring her when she had first entered his room for the evening meal. She had figured that there would be a night of delights to follow, but now she was not so sure. Perhaps she could change his dreary mood.

As she stood, Ghost lifted himself from his place by the roaring fire and walked to her side. She hummed with amusement as he brushed against her, purposefully nearly knocking her over in that odd affectionate way he had recently adopted with her before he stuck his wet nose in her ear, nudging her.

She followed the direwolf to the entrance of Jon's bedchamber. She looked back at him before she entered the room and said, "I will be waiting for you."

Her clothes were shed quickly, as she wanted to have herself arranged on the bed in the most enticing pose possible for when he came in. She had barely relaxed upon the surface when he entered the warm room, his head down, closing the door with a soft click. When he turned, he saw her entirely naked and reclined on her side, her head resting in her hand and her fingers lazily tracing the curve of her hip.

She bit her lip as she watched his hands fist and his body visibly shake. Sometimes his reactions to her, whether she was nude or dressed, had her wanting him so bad it hurt. It was obvious at this point that he was trying to wait until their wedding night before they actually had physical relations, but it was only a handful of days away, and she didn't see why she couldn't try to tempt fate as she had just the other night.

"Daenerys, I—"

She shook her head as she shifted her position, getting on all fours as she crawled towards him slowly in a predatory manner. He had moved to the edge of the bed, but instead of going into his arms, she turned completely around at the last second and fell forward, raising her bottom into the air. She flung her long hair aside and looked back at him over her shoulder, trying to appear as seductive as possible.

"I want you, Jon," she purred, waving her ass back and forth in a hypnotizing manner. His hands reached out to grasp the tempting morsels of her flesh, and she moaned low in her throat as he squeezed.

"I want to feel your cock, Jon. I want you inside me. I want to scream your name over and over again," she whispered over her shoulder. She heard him draw in a sharp breath at her words, and in the next moment, she felt one of his fingers trail down the cleft of her plump buttocks. The path his fingertips followed was slow and torturous, until they found the bundle of nerves that was the source of her pleasure. She cried out in delight as he touched her there for a few long moments, stirring the warmth inside of her until she was thrumming with need.

When his inquisitive fingers left the place she wanted touched the most and found her entrance, slowly sliding inside, she moaned loudly and arched her back, feeling her thighs quiver at the deliberate tease. His free hand was caressing her back and behind, until it moved around her thigh to find the tiny nub that she wanted touched so desperately.

She felt her whole body start to tremble. His pace continued the same slow, erotic movement, making her cry out into the furs on the bed over and over again. She was pushing back against his finger, begging for more, but he would not give it. Her muscles were beginning to convulse and she knew that she would explode at any moment, but she did not want to. She wanted him, not his fingers.

"Please, Jon," she whimpered, her eyes starting to water. She was quivering uncontrollably, fighting the need her muscles had to clench down and shatter.

She gasped in near pain when both of his hands left her. Before she could turn, she heard the sounds of him undressing, and quickly flipped over, hoping against hope that he would finally fuck her and make her his.

"Oh, yes," she said eagerly, watching as his clothes dropped to the floor. He was naked in only a few seconds, and her eyes went straight to his hard cock, ready to expire if he was not within her in the next instant. He moved to crawl onto the bed, and she spread her legs wide, her breasts heaving as her hands reached urgently for him. Her fingers curled around the thick length of his manhood, and she squeezed him as he came closer to her core. He hissed at the feeling of her soft hand as she rubbed the head of his cock against the wetness there.

She didn't think she had ever wanted a man as much as she wanted Jon. If his skills with his tongue and fingers were any indication, she knew that she was going to enjoy every second of their joining. She jerked her hips against his length, not able to stand it any longer.

"Jon...my prince...I—"

"I can't."

It took her a moment to comprehend his words, and it was only when the heat of his body left hers that his words registered. She sat up, confused, as she watched him begin to jerk on his clothes.

"What—I don't understand. Where are you going, Jon? What's wrong?" she asked, suddenly feeling very vulnerable in her nakedness. She jerked a fur over her as he yanked on his boots and stood.

"I can't. I just can't. You...you wouldn't understand. I have to go," he said, his last words sounding like he was trying not to cry. She had only ever seen him cry one time in the two years she had known him, and fear sliced through her.

"Don't go," she said quietly, her hand reaching out for him, her eyes begging him not to leave.

He couldn't meet her gaze. He stared at Ghost instead, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck and on her arms stand on end. The way the two looked at each other, she swore that they could talk in a language they both understood. The direwolf snorted and shook his head as if nodding, and Dany watched as Jon walked out of his bedchamber, slamming the door behind him.

She felt tears fall down her cheeks, and she didn't know why.

* * *

Daenerys

The snow had not stopped. It was as if the gods were mourning.

She had the city watch on shoveling duty and constantly patrolling to make sure people had enough wood to stay warm.

She was in Jon's room, laying dejectedly on his bed after his desertion of her the previous night. No one had seen him since he had left, and she was worried about him. There had been no trace of him for hours, except for the palace guard to say that he had left the Keep. He had declined an escort, and when he had been pressed by Ser Barristan, he had drawn his sword and threatened them all to leave him alone. The sight of his sword was enough to scare everyone off.

Ser Barristan had told her that he'd had the prince followed, but with the weather and the prince being quicker of wit than his pursuers, he was quickly lost amongst the city buildings.

"Your Grace."

She rolled over to see Ser Barristan standing in the doorway. She sat up, suddenly afraid at his demeanor. He looked like he was afraid to talk.

"Drogon is gone, Your Grace."

She closed her eyes.

Jon had left her.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Daenerys is too young and inexperienced to understand that sometimes one's state of mind is too fragile to handle certain situations, especially a person like Jon, who has lost too much. Her body will end up betraying her in the long run...

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